Rooted In The Music

I was born in 1952. Music was something my young parents indulged in whenever they could in their leisure time. I listened to musicals, opera and strict classical music. My mother played the Grand Piano when we got one. Later, in school I was “drafted” for the choir. I guess I must have had a voice worth enough to be heard. When my parents bought a new radio I got the old one. It had a “green Magic eye”. When that green light was glowing it meant that the radio would be “warmed up” and ready to play. Being the traveler I later turned out to be, I loved to scroll down the many international stations. The radio was an AM, FM and Short- and Long-wave version. FM had the best reception, but AM had all the International stations painted on the glass panel. We listened to stations from Russia (without understanding a word) Bulgaria, Netherlands, Denmark and Belgium. From time to time the sound would fade out into a screech, or another station would suddenly interfere. We turned the knob and scrolled farther down. We had to do that very slowly, otherwise we wouldn’t be able to tune in to the stations.                        A non-modified sunset as seen from our house tonight   Of course, sometimes we would be so lucky to hit on a real nice station playing the hits of the time. It was just about 15 years after the war and the station’s DJs loved to play American music. So for the time being we forgot about opera, operettas and classical music. It was the time of great hits being launched. We sat glued to the radio. We had no TV to be glued to. This love of music continued through the sixties and seventies. I could sit and picture myself living in America. I day-dreamed about a different life. I forgot to mingle with my comrades. They had other interests. While they played soccer I listened to music. To this day, I can all of a sudden pick up an old melody and whistle along. Sometimes I think I am still a hippy. That is in spite the fact that I never was one. Today I can “see” hippies when I’m listening to the music of the late sixties and early seventies. Transporting my mind back to those days, I’m seriously saddened that I can’t turn back the time. WE WERE HAPPY in those days. We were FULL OF IDEAS and PLANS. Like I said many of those were just daydreams. But aren’t our dreams giving us direction? Don’t we run our lives after our dreams?  I ended up in North America. I ended up where the music in my youth came from. My roots are in the music of those days.